You Can See Him Too?
by BBCGirl72
Summary: In which Mrs. Hudson brings Sherlock tea and Sherlock has returned to London. Chapter 3 is up. Please review! Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of its characters, sadly.
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson sat in 221B, Sherlock hopping about, trying to figure out some clue in the case they were currently working.

John was reading the paper, vaguely listening to Sherlock rant on about how some of the evidence made absolutely zero sense.

Sherlock had returned to London about four weeks ago, thinking John would be furious with him. John had been pretty angry, but much less so than what Sherlock had originally deduced. John hadn't even gotten all that angry when Sherlock had told him that Mrs. Hudson, Molly, Mycroft, and Lestrade had known that he hadn't died long before he could've told John.

That was okay, though. It saved Sherlock from experiencing emotions he specifically attempted to avoid.

Mrs. Hudson bustled into the room, setting a cup of tea down next to Sherlock's chair, which Sherlock was perched on, his hands folded together in the classic Sherlock Holmes pose.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said, clearly dismissing her.

"You're welcome, dear. Is there anything else I can get you two?" she said with a smile.

John's head whipped toward Mrs. Hudson, his face turning white as a sheet.

The thick newspaper hit the floor with a loud _thud. _

"You can see him too?" John whispered with a touch of horrified amazement.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Thank you for the reviews!**_

Sherlock's mind raced, trying to break into bits and pieces why John was so shocked.

"Why, yes, of _course _I can see Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson replied. John looked like he was about to be sick.

"I–I thought–" John stumbled.

"John," Sherlock said quietly. John looked to Sherlock, his eyes full of fear. "What happened while I was away?"

John hesitated before answering, "I had to go to the hospital,"

Sherlock silently got to his feet and crossed the room, waving Mrs. Hudson away. She obediently hopped down the stairs, letting her boys figure this out without a crowd.

"What wing of the hospital?" he asked, sitting down on the floor in front of John.

John was silent for a long moment, and Sherlock could swear tears were forming in the soldier's eyes.

"Mental," it was barely loud enough for Sherlock to hear.

A strange feeling tore through Sherlock, like he was angry at…himself. At the same time, another alien feeling settled on Sherlock's shoulders. Guilt.

"They locked me up, and I always had hallucinations. Finally they let me go, when you showed up."

John reached down and grabbed Sherlock's arm, his face going green as he did so.

"_You're not a hallucination," _John breathed.

"No, I'm not." So that explained why John hadn't more or less attacked Sherlock for faking his death.

John was silent for a few moments.

"Well, if you aren't a hallucination, then," John punched Sherlock in the jaw. Sherlock grunted and rose, walking to the kitchen to get some ice.

"Do not leave again, you dolt," John said.

And Sherlock made two silent promises. One, to get John whatever help he needed. Two, to never leave again.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Originally, I was not going to make a third chapter but I did. Warning: one curse word. There is the slightest bit of Johnlock. (I am a huge Johnlock shipper. **____** ) Please continue to review! –Throws cookies at those who have reviewed– **_

John Watson lay with his feet up against the wall, his head hanging off the end of the couch. He was staring at the pill bottle his doctor had given him.

_It'll help with the hallucinations, _she'd said. Yet it had been a week since he'd seen her and he hadn't taken a single pill.

Sherlock walked into the room with two steaming cups of tea. It was weird to be taking care of John, as John was normally Sherlock's rock, the one who reminded him of the real world while Sherlock was off in his mind palace. Yet, Sherlock sort of liked it.

"I am not going to take a damn pill, Sherlock," John said as Sherlock sat next to him.

Sherlock sighed and pulled the soldier upright, pulling John's chilly fingers apart and linking them around a cup of hot tea.

"There, see? I wasn't going to ask. Just drink your tea." Sherlock ordered. John took a long, scalding drink of tea and set the mug down.

"I do not trust pills anymore, not since the Study in Pink," John said, picking up the yellow container that held the pills.

"John, I've studied these pills under microscopes. Completely safe," Sherlock said.

John sighed.

"Plus, it is the only way you can continue working."

John rolled his eyes.

"You heard what the doctor said, and I am in no place to argue with her," Sherlock continued. He wasn't the best at the whole convincing thing.

John scoffed and set the container down so he could take another sip of tea.

Sherlock pulled out the big guns, as this clearly wasn't working.

"John," Sherlock said, green eyes meeting blue. "_For me." _

John paused, glancing down at the yellow container. He let out a long sigh, popping the lid off.

"You'll be the death of me, you know that?" John swallowed the pill dry. He knew these would quickly tire him, he could already feel himself drifting away…

"Thank you," Sherlock said with that bright white smile.

John lay back on the couch and felt Sherlock drape a blanket over him.

Dream time," Sherlock whispered before John fell into sleep.


End file.
